So, he had been very, very wrong about the Halfling. He still felt guilty and couldn't think what to do. And that was when Gandalf came in handy.

"Hobbits like flowers, you know," the Wizard said, as he strode alongside Thorin one afternoon.

If that was what it took to show Bilbo his friendship, then that was precisely what Thorin would do. He didn't get his chance to find any until a few days later, when they stopped by a field of lavender for the night. He disappeared into it, which was a shame, because if he hadn't, then he would've heard Ori asking Bilbo why he wasn't in there too and then he would have heard Bilbo's reply.

"They're not really good flowers."

But he did not hear this, and was walking through the field, picking flowers and either adding them to the bunch or tossing them to the ground again. Once finally satisfied with his bunch, he made his way back to camp.

"Master Baggins."

Bilbo's shoulders slumped as Thorin placed the bundle of lavender into his arms. He'd thought that Thorin would.. well, like him more now, but clearly that was not the case.

"I hope these get the message across," Thorin said calmly, before taking his leave.

Bilbo watched him go, the bouquet shaking in his trembling hands.

Thorin couldn't understand why the Hobbit avoided him so. He also looked so sad all the time, that the exiled King worried that the flowers given hadn't been good enough. The next time they stopped, he spotted some bright yellow flowers growing nearby and went to retrieve them, dropping them by the burglar's side.

This time Bilbo's eyes widened and he paled.

"I hope these will help you know my thoughts on you, little burglar."

Bilbo nodded. "Th-they do."

The Hobbit was looking positively distraught the next day, which puzzled and displeased Thorin. He saw flowers, tall and graceful, their petals a deep orange colour growing by the stream they were near and went to get them, in the hope these beautiful flowers would get their burglar smiling again.

However, when given, the Shireling looked up at Thorin, his green eyes large and utterly heartbroken, whispered an apology and left, earning Thorin a glower from Bofur who had grown quite fond of the little one.

"What did you do to him?!" Bofur demanded, pointing at Thorin with an accusatory finger.

"I did nothing!" Thorin protested. "I was trying to be nice!"

"Well, you must've done something!"

"What's going on?" Balin asked.

"I was only taking the Wizard's advice!" Thorin defended. "He told me to give him flowers and I did and he clearly doesn't like the orange ones!"

"What's all the noise about? Where's Bilbo?" questioned the aforementioned Wizard.

"Thorin gave him his least favourite flowers and he's upset with him," Dwalin explained.

"What flowers did you give?" Gandalf asked.

"Purple ones... lavender. And yellow ones..."

"Carnations." Ori said, tryng to be helpful

"And those orange ones," Thorin pointed at the lilies Bilbo had left.

"I see," murmured Gandalf.

"What do you see?" Thorin asked impatiently.

"Hobbits are creatures of the earth. They place great symbolism into flowers."

"So, what did the flowers Thorin gave mean?"

"Lavender means distrust, yellow carnation means disappointment and the orange lily," Gandalf gave the flowers a pointed look, "signifies hate."

"Hate," Thorin whispered. "He thinks I hate him?"

"He also thinks you distrust him."

Thorin ran his hands through his hair. "Why did you not tell to avoid those ones?"

"Because I didn't think you'd actually do it." Gandalf admitted.

Thorin sighed at him. "I'll find him now and sort this mess out."

Bilbo didn't know what he'd done to earn Thorin's disappointment, his distrust, his...

His hatred.

He didn't know how he was going to get through this venture, knowing that someone who despised him so would be there every step of the way. He sniffled quietly.
Before he'd known that Thorin was unsure about him, but the exiled King had said he'd been wrong, had apologised and now things were even worse than they were. Had he shamed Thorin by saving him? Was that why?

So lost in thought was he, that he jumped upon hearing a twig snap and turned his head to see the very Dwarf he'd been thinking about.

Oh.

Thorin was looking at him now, as though lost in thought, and then strode over and awkwardly stood, looking down at him. It felt odd to describe Thorin Oakenshield as 'awkward', but he looked so very uncertain of himself that it was the only word Bilbo could really use to describe him. Bilbo's confusion deepened when Thorin suddenly dropped to his knees, gifting Bilbo a view of his clear blue eyes.

And then, for the second time that month, Thorin hugged him.

The Hobbit was obviously a bit surprised by the sudden hug he'd just been given. Understandable. Thorin didn't like to think what must have been going through his mind. It felt a tad undignified to be kneeling down, but Thorin ignored this feeling and focused on the quivering person he held in his arms. He drew back and pressed his forehead lightly to Bilbo's, feeling his shaking go down as the customary Dwarven action soothed him. Bilbo knew that Dwarves only touch foreheads with close friends and kin and it was perhaps this, rather than the embrace, what calmed him.

Deciding that if he was going to be down here, the Hobbit could join him, he gently pulled the Shireling towards himself and sat back.

Perhaps Bilbo had missed something, but he didn't recall the contract saying, 'You May End Up Seated On The Surprisingly Comfortable Lap of Our Leader. Yes, The One Who Glares A Lot'.
Not that he was complaining.

"I owe you an apology."

"You don't hate me?"

"No," Thorin's eyes were very sincere and he moved a hand to run it through Bilbo's curls. "No, not at all. I just thought they were pretty and that you'd like them."

"I should apologise too. I shouldn't have assumed you'd know what they'd meant."

"No," a wry smile came to Thorin's features. "Let's not forget our reactions in the Great Hair Fiasco we had a month ago. You need not apologise for being unaware of what others do and do not know."

"Neither should you, then."

"Hmm." Thorin murmured. He placed his head against Bilbo's again. "All the same, I regret that you were hurt by my actions."

"You didn't intend to," Bilbo said. "Did you?"

"No!" Thorin declared, giving the Hobbit a look as though he'd been shot.

"I don't understand, why did you feel the need to give the flowers?"

"I was informed," Thorin's voice sounded slightly abashed, though his expression stayed neutral. "That in Halfling culture giving each other flowers was a sign of friendship. Among other things, it seems."

To Thorin's surprise, Bilbo started laughing.

"You idiot, Thorin!"

The Dwarf felt like dumping him on the ground and walking away, but kept his patience despite this slight against his intelligence and settled for giving Bilbo a sharp look. "What's funny?"

"I already knew you wished us to be friends. You kept saying as much."

"I wanted to be certain." Thorin said.

"Ah." Bilbo was quiet, his laughter finished. Twisting around, he gave Thorin a warm smile and softly repeated his belief that the Dwarf was a fool.

"Maybe so, but Dwarves like to show our friends that we are just that to them." Thorin explained.

"We just tell each other," Bilbo said. "Despite what you were told, we only give one or two flowers to each other. If you'd given a bunch of red and yellow tulips, you would have been declaring your undying romantic love. If we were to give one to a friend, we would be telling them of our love, but that would be a friend love. Does that make sense?"

Thorin made an agreeing noise, though most of the explanation had gone over his head. He turned his head to see a soft warm flickering in the distance and remembered the others, who were most likely wondering if they were going to come back at all.

"I suppose we'd best get back," Bilbo said, climbing off of Thorin. He offered a hand, which was politely declined and took a step back as Thorin stood.

The Dwarrow placed a heavy arm around Bilbo's small shoulders and turned, stopping short of crushing a small patch of tiny, white flowers.

"What are these?"

"Jasmine. It's a love flower too."

That was all the explanation the Dwarf needed and he swooped down, yanking them out of the soil and presented them to the Hobbit. Green eyes stared into blue and Bilbo mumbled, "there's a lot of flowers."

"Mmm."

"You remember what I told you? About how friends give each other a few?"

"I remember." Thorin's eyes seemed very dark and they held a glitter the younger being had never seen the King's eyes behold.

There was a short silence, broken by a quiet murmur of acceptance.

When they finally returned to camp, if Thorin's hair was a bit untidier than it had been and Bilbo looked slightly rumpled, no one mentioned it.

I can't say no to the Plot Bunny who I have named Ori for obvious reasons. I don't even know what I'm doing , I'm just compiling a series of one-shots with Bilbo and the Company. I didn't even intend to have Bagginshield in this first chapter, it was supposed to be friendship!

Don't regret it much, truth be told.

White Jasmine symbolises sweet love (and is a really adorable flower)